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Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
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the perfume / of the world in which
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I am a thing not new, I am as old
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Some Mesoamerican elders
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The trick, they
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Maroon went wild,
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Oh! the acceleration with which my heart does proceed,
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And they fished with their lips and tongues
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Fields will have taken over.
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In the middle of noise and turmoil / I carry silence.
